


Toybox

by CaesarVulpes



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Cervical stimulation? is that a tag?, Daddy Kink, Dom Martin, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Other, PWP, Spanking, Sub Jon, Trans Jon, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, also whatever kink Gerry's entire existence is, sub tim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaesarVulpes/pseuds/CaesarVulpes
Summary: A collection of pwp ficlets.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 102





	1. Toy (Jonmartim D/s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin's rewards are almost punishments themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words used for Jon's anatomy: cock, folds, hole

Jon tries not to squirm, but it’s hard when he’s hearing Tim’s desperate keening. Feeling him pant, hot and wanting, into his shoulder as Martin brings his hand down again. 

He can practically _feel_ the spank, with Tim’s body pressed so close up against his. He wants to see Tim’s face all screwed up and tearstained, he wants to feel the friction of Tim’s cock against his, but every time he wiggles he gets another slap to his bound thighs and it’s _torture_ to still have nothing inside him. 

This is as much a punishment as a reward, to be bound so thoroughly, blind and gagged and without a shred of agency—to be _used_ to make _them_ come, his own pleasure entirely incidental. A tool, to please or punish. To dangle in front of Tim. 

Tim’s properly sobbing with need now.

“Please let me fuck him,” Tim whines, “Please, Daddy, please, please let me fuck him. I was good, Daddy, _please._ ”

Martin gives a dry sort of _hmm,_ theatrical and loud enough to hear over Jon’s constant low whining. He can’t help it; he wants it, he wants it in him so bad his insides ache. He can feel the tip dragging in his folds, catching against his cock and the edge of his hole and he wants to scream. It’s been so long having to stay here and listen to Tim’s noises that his whole body is tingling, _aching_ . He wants to beg, too, but only _people_ get to beg. He’s only a _toy_ , a nice wet hole for them to use, a reward for Tim’s good behavior.

“I suppose you’ve been good enough,” Martin says, and he must have let Tim go because all at once he’s sinking in much too fast, so fast it hurts. Jon _squeals._

Tim fucks him hard and fast, too hard, too fast, just the way he wants it.


	2. Word Association (Jongerry, mild d/s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry re-associates a word, and Jon's embarrassing crush is fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words used for Jon's anatomy: rim, cervix, cock

_Archivist._ Years of experience have ground a bitter taste into Gerry’s tongue at the word. _Archivist_ is cold, ruthless, calculated, sometimes outright _cruel_ . _Archivist_ is a thin mouth set in a hard line and the faint hope of trust and betrayal, betrayal, betrayal. 

However.

These days, _Archivist_ is also the little disaster of a man squirming against him. These days _Archivist_ is a soft, yielding mouth and sweet, desperate moans. Trembling hands and glazed eyes.

Gerry pulls back from that sweet little mouth and grabs him by the jaw, drags him a little higher onto his toes, crowds him a little closer into the alley wall.

“When I heard there was a new _Archivist_ ,” Gerry groans, squeezes on the last word to make him squeak, “I wasn’t expecting a welcome like this.”

Jon moans, ruts against his thigh. His dowdy little skirt has ridden up to show the lacy top of a stocking and isn’t _that_ precious. 

“Please,” he whimpers, “Please, more.” 

Oh, Gerry wants to _ruin_ this man. Fuck him hard and fast right here, where anyone could see. Gerry tips his head back more, rubs a thumb over glossy, kiss-swollen lips. Jon’s looking up at him like he hung the moon, like he’s discovered a merciful god. 

“You look like such a little slut.”

The Archivist moans softly. 

“What do you want, Archivist?”

Gerry’s horny, not a _monster_ , he wants to give Jon the chance to set his terms. To tell Gerry what he’s comfortable with, or when he needs to stop.

Big, dark eyes search his face with a sort of giddy reverence. Jon chews his lip, still grinding slowly on Gerry’s thigh. 

“i-I,” he starts, cuts himself off with an aborted whine, “I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me on-- _oh, god_ \--on the couch in the breakroom, _please_.” 

And how can he say no to that?

  
  


Jon whimpers and clutches the back of Gerry’s t-shirt. He’s still half-drunk on that alone, _Gerard Keay_ is _here_ and _whole_ , and not just that, every sinful inch of him is pressed against Jon, pressed inside him, so deep he thinks he can feel it brushing his _cervix_. He can still taste Gerry’s mouth, feel the heat of his breath. 

“You like that?”

Jon tries to get his eyes to focus, looking up at Gerry’s face, flushed and smirking above him. Then he tries to speak, and finds only a high, needy whimper where his voice should be.

“Take that as a yes.”

The next thrust is heavenly. Quick and rough and yeah, that’s his cervix, and it feels _so good_. 

He loses himself to the punishing pace, squeals through at least one orgasm but it might be two, _god_ , he feels like he’ll _die_. 

“Deep,” he sobs, stupidly. “ _God, please._ ” 

He can feel himself drooling, he must look pathetic but it’s taking all his concentration not to just pass out. He can feel the head of Gerry’s cock battering the deepest place in him, feel the smooth drag of every one of its piercings against his rim, and more than anything he feels Gerry looking at him with that deep, animal _want._

“ _Fuck,_ ” Gerry groans. “Look at you.”

Jon keens, he’s so close again and it’s all so _much_.

Gerry presses close, buries his face in Jon’s neck, and the whole world is the smell of him and the sound of his skin and the weight of his cock and the maddening, merciful roughness of calloused fingers against Jon's cock.

“Gonna come soon,” Gerry grinds out, and Jon tangles his hands in that long, long hair he’s wanted to touch for so long.

“Inside me, please, _please_ ,” he manages, “So good.”

Gerry outright _moans_ and bites down on Jon’s shoulder, and everything is lost in white waves of ecstasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look cervical stimulation feels real good for some people let me have this


End file.
